An Old Sweet Song
by Disco Inferno1
Summary: Randy Orton’s housekeeper has finally had enough and confronts him, leading both to divulge more than they meant. One-Shot. OrtonxOFC. Detailed summary inside.


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An Old Sweet Song

By Disco Inferno1

**Summary: **Ana Chapman has been Randy Orton's housekeeper for a year now but becomes fed up with his new live-in girlfriend. She decides to confront him and finds herself divulging more than she meant, invoking a response from Randy on both counts. One-shot. Orton/OFC.

**Rating: **M for sexual situations.

**Disclaimers:** I do not in any way lay claim to any name or character in the WWE. This is entirely not-for-profit fiction. Original character of Ana Chapman is copyright of Disco Inferno1, 2008.

_**-Personalities presented within are not necessarily those of the characters in real life nor are the views presented within necessarily those of the author. **_Poetic license has been taken with character personas. Therefore, even though this fic is based on "reality," I have not entirely used wrestlers' real history or their families' history. I am highly uncomfortable doing so as wrestlers' personal lives are none of my business. No disrespect meant for those authors who do, simply personal belief on my part. _That means, no, Randy Orton is not married with a child in this fic, although I know this to not be true in reality._

-This fic is for Clare, the incomparable _**WandaXmaximoff**_** (user id 747588****)**. She has been a wonderful friend as well as a great beta for me for years now. I can't imagine life and fanfic without her. That said, this fic has little substance and it's meant to be that way. It's an all-out fun one-shot tailored for my girl. So that explains why in the blue blazes I'm writing a Randy Orton fic, not because hell has frozen over but because I owe Clare so much, and apparently she has some fixation with the guy right now (okay, whatever. . .).

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Ana Chapman swore under her breath as she picked up another pair of his dirty underwear. Honestly, how hard was it for him to at least aim near the clothesbasket instead of her finding a pair in the bathroom, a pair under his bed, a pair near the Jacuzzi? It was the least he could do after this morning but then her mind drifted to exactly why his briefs were scattered throughout the house: he dropped them wherever he chose to have a sexual encounter at that moment…and probably with a different woman each time up until the past three weeks. It was none of her business but that didn't stop just a little bit of heat and jealousy spreading like liquid across her stomach as she dropped a green pair of BVDs into the basket she was carrying into the laundry room.

Despite these unwanted feelings, Ana was grateful for her job as Randy Orton's housekeeper. It was fairly easy with him being away half the time. Her job description was simply to keep the place clean by coming in three days a week. She was to stock his refrigerator and pantry with fresh fruits, vegetables, and meat the day of his arrival from touring on the road. He had supplied her with a list that rarely varied on her first day. The second day was in the middle of the week while he was home to handle mostly his on-the-road laundry and other assorted things needed, i.e. the dishes and to pick up after him. The third day was after he left to put the house back to rights. Of course, there were other little things in between, such as handling random items like a blown light bulb or being available to let the pool maintenance workers in. Besides hunting down his underwear, the worst was dusting the five bedroom/five bath home that held an exercise room, a Jacuzzi, pool, entertainment room, office, and a kitchen of which a small restaurant owner would be envious.

The part-time job paid very well, as evidenced by Randy's salary, whom she didn't know from Adam's housecat when she took the position on. Ana assumed that he bought her off more for her silence that she was his employee and any private details about him that she could share than for her actual housekeeping skills. The hours allowed her to focus more on her studies at the Washington University School of Medicine there in St. Louis than her job. Being a maid was only for the purpose of getting her through her doctorate so that she could finally begin breast cancer research as a full-time vocation. Ana had her suspicions that Randy finally chose her over the other applicants because his mother was in remission from breast cancer and research into that particular disease was near and dear to his heart. She knew positively that he donated often to the cancer center at Washington University.

Such humanitarian actions didn't excuse him for his lifestyle in Ana's mind. In the past year of her employment, she had personally seen two women out of Randy's house, both of which had assumed that once he had invited them for one night, then they were welcome to stay longer. Other evidence of his dalliances had surfaced with the occasionally forgotten panties or the smell of perfume on his shirts. There was also the stash of marijuana she found in his bedroom. For fear of repercussions, she left it exactly where she found it but that had happened only once, thank god. She was only a few years younger than he and knew all too well the exploits of the casual male. Randy wasn't much different than her two older brothers. Being none of her business, she shrugged her shoulders at him and completed the tasks for the day to return to her apartment and continue with homework.

But she had reached a limit today. Three weeks ago, Randy had innocuously started a conversation with her that didn't involve the pantry or his laundry. He had arrived earlier than usual that day and caught her taking a quick break to catch up on some reading for her lab later that evening.

Ana jumped up from the kitchen table and closed her textbook. "I can be finished in an hour. I'm sorry, I wasn't…" The words tumbled out in a stuttered apology.

"No problem," Randy replied with a shrug, dropping his gym bag on the hardwood floor. "I'm back early," he nonchalantly added, walking around the breakfast table to the refrigerator to open it while she hurriedly began stuffing her laptop and books back into her backpack.

"I just have to, uh, put up the rest of the groceries, and, um…"

"I can handle it," he answered and took a swig of orange juice straight out to the carton.

_Why wouldn't he drink right out of the carton_, she asked herself, _he doesn't exactly share it with anyone else_. "It's okay," she replied with a shrug, zipping up her backpack.

Randy wiped a hand across his mouth and Ana swallowed hard, upset with herself for even being all hot and bothered by the man. She knew him for what he was: a playboy. It hadn't taken her long to find out more about her employer after he simply introduced himself as a wrestler for WWE and that she was to respect him as a private person. She would never lie and say that she hadn't found him extremely handsome upon meeting him but she was not looking for a relationship nor did she expect to find one as a housekeeper. Learning more of his personality and his career, she definitely did not expect him to even notice her. Besides, his ways turned her off and no amount of lean, hard muscle and blue eyes could make her want a man like that as her boyfriend. It wasn't like she saw him for more than a couple of hours in the middle of the week and she felt confident that she could handle a little lust. It was like that crush she had on her Biology professor in undergrad, all for looking but no touching.

"It's obvious you need to study," Randy sincerely stated, glancing at her bookbag. He stopped and then reached out a hand to a monogrammed nametag on the handle. "LMC? Where does 'Ana' come from then?"

"Uh, well…" she nervously began, twirling a curly lock of her shoulder-length copper hair. "My parents are huge Louisiana State University fans and, well, my first name is actually Louisiana."

"And you prefer Ana to Louise?" he asked with a grin. Ana nodded in reply, finding his smile mesmerizing. Had he ever smiled at her before? She was sure she would have noticed if he had. "The M?"

"Oh, that's for Marie."

"You're from New Orleans, right?" he asked, leaning up against the countertop and crossing one ankle over the over. Ana nodded again, trying to keep her olive green eyes on his face and off his jeans encased legs now that she had allowed her mind to wonder.

"For Marie Leveau?"

"No, sorry to disappoint. It's for my grandmother," she shyly responded but then quickly gained her wits. "I'll just be goin' then," she added, grabbing her pack and heading for the door.

"Wait, Ana, I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?" she asked, turning back around on the threshold of the door.

"I have a friend coming to stay with me," Randy began, capping the orange juice now that he had realized he left it open on the countertop. "I don't know how long she'll be here but I just wanted to let you know that someone else will be staying in the house."

"Okay," she responded with a smile, only seeing those blue eyes watching her.

This person turned out to be a woman named Georgia who could have stepped off the runways of Paris and Milan. She was thin and tall with incredibly long legs and large breasts. Her long blonde hair always hung in waves and her eyes were the same crystal blue as Randy's. Ana, on the other hand, was about a foot shorter than Randy. While she didn't look bad in a bikini, she was definitely nowhere near Georgia. Her upturned nose annoyed her and the freckles on the bridge was a fact she had to accept. Her breasts were just average. She felt that described her to a tee: average. Her best feature, in her opinion, was her curly red hair, a mix of copper and bronze tones. With Georgia present, she felt even more average despite her hair.

Now, three weeks after Randy's announcement, Georgia, the irony of their names was not lost on Ana, was more than she could handle. It was none of her business that Randy was bringing a girlfriend into his house. She could easily handle the extra items on the grocery list. She hardly saw Georgia, who was almost always in bed while Ana was there. But she did not sign on to do her laundry, which she found after the first week with a noted pinned to the basket asking she take care of it. Nor did she agree to clean up the popcorn that was constantly littered around the couch in the livingroom or the cartons of ice cream left unfinished in the entertainment room. Apparently Georgia only cooked via the microwave, which had to be scrubbed out each time Ana came in to work. The grad student sucked it up as she was already generously being paid. But this morning provoked her into a conversation with Randy regarding his girlfriend.

Ana knew nothing about Georgia other than she was a painter. Her easel and paints were often left out in the guest room or on the balcony. Ana had found them on the patio a couple of times. She had cleaned the sink several times from the splattered paint where Georgia had washed out her brushes. But today, before picking up Randy's underwear, Ana had spent precious hours taking care of the disaster that she discovered in the dining room. Paint was everywhere: on the walls, in the carpet, across the dining table, and even some on the ceiling. It took four kinds of cleaner, which she had to track down in different places, to safely clean the paint. Ana did not intend to quit nor threaten to quit but Randy needed to know what had been going on in his house while he was on the road.

With a load of clothes now in the washing machine, Ana brought out her laptop and books to study as she waited for Randy to come home. While checking her e-mail, she began to mentally formulate what she wanted to say to him. If she didn't have a plan of attack, no doubt, she would fall apart, shrugging off the problem. She was one of those people who wanted to write out messages she left on others' answering machines because she would either ramble on or forget all that she needed to say.

Ana ran a couple of scenarios in her head beginning with where Randy would be when she broached the subject. Should she accost him the moment he came in? Should she let him get settled first? What if Georgia woke up before she got a chance to talk to him? It would be best to start right away, even if she felt bad about not letting him get in to relax. He would be travel-weary, his eyes drooping somewhat, his t-shirt and jeans rumpled. It was the only time she ever saw him less than immaculate in appearance, not counting him occasionally lounging around in the middle of the week when she came in, but even then he was freshly shaved, showered, and refreshed.

Actually, she corrected herself in mid-thought, his jeans were never rumpled as they were practically a second skin. There was little left to the imagination with the way the denim caressed his butt and thighs. While she had never seen him naked, she had accidentally crossed him in just his skivvies or while he was swimming. The television cameras obviously did not do his thighs justice. She could simply sink her teeth right into the inside of them. With a sigh, she opened up a textbook, unaware of which one or what page as she continued to daydream.

Before Ana's thoughts took the next step beyond the wrestler's thighs, the garage door opened. Flustered for being caught thinking impure thoughts about her employer, she hurriedly dropped her eyes to her book and stared at a diagram on the page.

"Hi, _Louise_-i-Ana," Randy greeted, again dropping his gym bag on the kitchen floor, his luggage trailing behind him. "Saw your car out front. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just fine," she replied, smiling up at him and then staring back at her book, not realizing that if she was still there at this time and reading, then things weren't exactly fine. She felt his presence behind her and held her breath, completely unable to think, barely aware that he had teased her again with her given name. Why he could do it and Georgia couldn't was obviously a bias on Ana's part. But then again, she rationalized that his girlfriend was more concerned with mocking her and thinking it was funny that the two of them had state names. She was a bit miffed at Randy for even telling Georgia her given name.

"Can't be too fine," he replied, pulling her book out from under her hands and turning it right side up. "Something on your mind?"

"Uh, well, yes, sir, there is," she stated, her cheeks glowing red as she tried not to focus on how tight his t-shirt sleeves were on his biceps.

"Uh, oh, she's using 'sir,'" he responded in a sing-song manner. "I'm in trouble now."

Ana watched him lean up against the countertop and then took a deep breath before beginning. "I know Georgia is none of my business and you pay me enough to keep up the house with her here but there are some things I think you should know."

When he raised his eyebrows in question, Ana launched into her spiel but she almost stopped in mid-speech as she watched his face grow redder with each incident. Whether it was anger at her or at his girlfriend, she didn't know and figured she should keep going. The skunk was already out and the stink couldn't be put back in.

"I think you should leave," Randy stated coolly and evenly. Ana blinked at him, her tongue frozen in her mouth and her mind blank. "Now," he added.

The redhead didn't nod nor speak. Like a zombie, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and then hurried out the side door through the garage that held Randy's Mustang and Explorer. On autopilot, Ana drove towards the university and pulled her red VW Beetle into an open spot but she only sat there, staring out the windshield. Her mind began to replay what had just happened. What had she said wrong? Was she too critical of Georgia? Why would he fire her just for telling him about the woman trashing his house? How could he be so shallow? She slowly leaned forward until her forehead rested on the steering wheel. She needed this job, dammit! A few tears trickled out of the corner of her eyes and she hurriedly wiped them away. She couldn't go into the lab looking like she had been crying. It was too much to think about finding a new job.

Ana slept little that night or the next night and ate next to nothing as her stomach was in a persistent knot. On Thursday morning when she would have been at Randy's, she was parked on the couch with a romantic comedy and a carton of chocolate ice cream.

"You really need to get over him," Jessica, her roommate, stated, sitting down beside her.

"It was a good job," Ana whined and then petulantly stuffed another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

"I said _him_, not the _job. _You're mourning Randy, not the job," Jessica pointed out.

"Whatever, Jess," the redhead replied with a roll of her eyes.

"Not mourn those thighs, those biceps, those blue eyes, that dimple…" her roommate dreamily mused with a faraway look in her eyes. "You are the luckiest bitch on this planet…except for maybe Batista's housekeeper."

"Well, maybe," Ana muttered. This time Jessica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay, that was a nice perk," the redhead conceded with a grin that said more than her words.

"If I was his housekeeper—" The blonde paused when Ana's cellphone rang. When her roommate didn't move, she asked, "Aren't you going to get that?"

"I really don't want to speak to anyone today."

Jessica stood up and marched across the room to pick up Ana's cellphone. "Not even Randy?"

The redhead popped up from the couch and nearly stumbled over the blanket that was wrapped around her legs. "Give me that."

"I thought you didn't care."

"Okay, I care. I'm drawn to those tattoos like a moth to a flame. Alright? If I could have my way, I would lock myself in a room with Randy Orton and never come out. Now give me the damn phone," Ana raved, scooting her tangled feet across the floor toward her roommate.

With a shit-eating grin, Jessica held out the phone and waited as Ana dialed her voicemail.

"_Ana, this is Randy Orton. We need to talk. I'm gonna be here all day if you can come by. I haven't changed the passcode. Call me if you can't make it."_

"So?" Jessica asked, reaching for the phone before Ana could delete the message to hear it for herself but the redhead smacked her hand away.

"He wants me to come by today. Probably to give me my last check and warn me to keep my mouth shut," Ana dejectedly explained and began untangling the blanket around her feet.

"You're going, right?"

"Of course, I'm goin'. Are you stupid?" Ana called, heading for her bathroom to shower. She carefully styled her hair and applied her make-up. Randy never saw her in anything other than a pair of jeans and t-shirt and her hair in a pony-tail since her first interview, so she chose a pair of black, slender slacks, and red off-the-shoulder blouse. She wanted him to see a confident, sophisticated woman who didn't need his shit to get through life. She was definitely not going to make him jealous but she could pretend.

Her hands were trembling as she climbed behind the wheel of her Beetle and her stomach grew tighter as she got closer to Randy's home. Since he made a point to tell her he hadn't changed the password for his security system, she let herself in. As she shut the door from the garage, the wrestler appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. "Hi," she weakly said.

"Hey," he replied, sticking his hands in his jeans pockets and staring at the ground. Ana didn't need him drawing any more attention to his thighs than the denim already was, along with the way his blue t-shirt highlighted the tattoos on his arms, tattoos she would never see in person again or never have the opportunity to see up close. "You wanna come into the livingroom?"

"Sure," she replied, her eyes now staring at the floor as well as she followed him into the room and settled on the couch opposite of where he sat in the sofa chair.

"Ana, I, uh, need to apologize to you." Her eyes widened as big as saucers but she didn't dare say a word. She severely doubted 'I'm sorry' ever came out of Randy's mouth. "I let what you said get to me and that was wrong."

"So I'm not fired?"

"No, what gave you that idea?"

"You told me to leave."

"Yeah, I did," he replied, more to himself than her. "I got angry at you at first but then I got angry at Georgia. I need to apologize for her as well."

"You shouldn't have to apologize for her. You're not her keeper."

"But you see, I sorta was." Randy paused to rub a hand over his forehead and then propped his elbows up on his knees. "Georgia lost her husband a few months back and she's manic-depressive and it made her condition worse to where she lost her job and then her apartment. I wanted to give her a place to get back on her feet, you know, get back on her medicine and find a job, than a place. She's an old college girlfriend but that's all. I got mad at you for complaining about her when it's not her fault and then I got mad at her because she's supposed to be taking her medicine and obviously she's not. I'm sorry on all counts."

Ana was so ashamed of herself that she physically began sinking into the couch. How could she accuse this woman of simply not caring when she recently lost her husband? Suddenly, she could see the dark circles under Georgia's eyes and her skin losing color and Ana recognized the highs and lows of the disorder. She dropped her head into her hands, trying to hide the red creeping up her cheeks.

"Hey, come on now, _Louise_-i-Ana, what's wrong?" Randy asked, rising from his seat to settle beside her.

She weakly smiled at his pet name, then shook her head. "I'm so embarrassed. I can't believe I even said anythin'. If I had known, I wouldn't have said a word."

"No, you were right," he replied, taking her hands into his. "The reason you were right to do so is that I needed to know she had stopped taking her meds. Plus, I realized that I couldn't help her just by giving her a place to stay. She needs professional help. I took her to a clinic last night after we had a long talk."

"Still, I feel so bad, bad for makin' assumptions and bad that she's goin' through this, and I assumed the worst about both of y'all," Ana stated, her hands flinching in his as she started to pull them away but changed her mind.

"Both of us?" Randy asked, raising his eyebrows. "My dear _Louise_-i-ana," he began with a cheeky grin, massaging the heels of her hands with his thumbs, "you were jealous."

"No," she immediately replied, even though her cheeks were flaming red.

"Don't lie to me," he stated, his voice a little husky as he leaned in closer to pierce her eyes with his.

"Okay, yes," Ana huffed, "I thought she was your girlfriend and, of course, I was jealous. Maybe…maybe I like you a lot, in spite of your ways." It was true, she finally admitted. She was more than physically attracted to him as it was also his cool, confident demeanor, how he took care of himself, his concern for her, and now the way he cared about his family and friends.

"Maybe I like _you_ a lot, in spite of your assumptions," Randy whispered, leaning in closer.

Ana was like a deer in headlights. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and couldn't speak. She didn't trust this man as far as she could throw him but every nerve in her body was on fire and the fact that he was helping Georgia out just made her all the more hot for him and it didn't help with heat emanating from his thighs so close to hers or with his hands holding her…or with his lips that close to hers…

Randy brushed his lips across hers and, when she didn't pull away, he pressed the kiss further. He thought Ana was cute, like 'girl-next-door' pretty, when he hired her, but she wasn't his type, always in a pony-tail and jeans with little make-up. WWE Divas and models were more his standard fare. Ana was simply his housekeeper but he found himself looking forward to her weekly visits and learned a little more about her each week. He loved her accent and the way she said, "New Awlins." Somehow, she made him want to straighten up a little, with her goody-goody ways, simple approach to life, and altruistic plans upon completion of her degree. He hadn't admitted to himself that he definitely wanted to date her—there were too many ethical issues going on there. Plus, she always seemed to run from him like a scared rabbit. But when she admitted that she was jealous, that she liked him, he couldn't resist—he had to kiss her. It didn't help that she looked so gorgeous in her red blouse and tight slacks, so unused to her dressed up.

When Ana mewled in the back of her throat as he pulled away, Randy lost control and released her hands, cupping the back of her head and snaking the other arm around her waist. Ana leaned into him, crushing her mouth against him, exploring every bit of territory she could as he did the same. Goose bumps rose across her entire body as she ran her hands over his chest and shoulders and then looped her arms around his neck. His skin was hot through his shirt and she would give anything to run her hands over his naked back and chest.

As if he could somehow sense her thoughts, Randy began unbuttoning her blouse, his lips never leaving hers. When he pushed the fabric down her arms, she complied and shrugged out of the garment and reached for the hem of his t-shirt. She stared at him for a moment, his perfectly sculpted muscles begging her to touch them. Her hands trailed over his abs and up his chest, her fingers lingering on his nipples. He softly groaned and Ana smiled, noting that his blue eyes had clouded over with desire. In response, he ran his hands over shoulders and then massaged her breasts through the fabric of her bra. With her sighs of pleasure, he stood up and held a hand out to her and she rose with him, allowing him to scoop her up in those beautiful arms and carry her to his bedroom.

When he laid her down on the over-sized bed, Ana put a hand out to stop him. She couldn't do this, as much as she wanted, which was incredibly so, she couldn't be with a man that used women like they were tissues. "Randy, wait," she breathed.

"I have protection, you don't need to worry," he huskily stated and leaned in for another kiss.

"That's not it," she replied, disentangling her limbs from his and pulling her knees up to her chest to wrap her arms around them. "I'm not gonna be another woman in a long line. Just 'cause I want this doesn't mean I want to be used."

Randy sat up to face her and she nearly swooned at the sight of him on the bed…his tanned skin, hard muscles, tattooed arms… But she had to question him.

"Fair enough," he replied with a nod. "But I haven't been with another woman in over six months—"

"But I had to get rid of those woman and I keep findin' your underwear everywhere _and_ their panties," she protested, wrapping her arms tighter around her knees.

"Not in the past six months," he replied with raised eyebrows.

Ana sucked in her breath to reply, held it a moment, and then let it out. She had no response because he was right.

"Maybe I fell for you along the way," he finally admitted to her and to himself. "Maybe I stopped caring about other women because I care about you."

Ana's heart pounded in her chest at his confession but could she trust him? "And maybe this is just a line to get my pants off."

"Call Dave, he'll tell you," Randy countered, casually lying back on the bed.

"And Dave will tell me anythin' you want me to hear because the two of y'all are thick as thieves," she replied, shaking her head even though a small smile crept up on her lips.

"Who would you believe?"

"An ex-girlfriend… Candice maybe?"

Randy grimaced but nodded. "She's as honest as they come. Let me get my phone."

He started to rise from the bed but Ana reached out to stop him, her hands resting on his smooth back. She resisted the urge to lean in and run her tongue over the tattoo across his shoulders. "I trust you. If you're willing to call her, then I believe you," she said, wrapping her fingers around one of his biceps. Her body began to prickle again and she licked her lips.

Randy's eyes were instantly drawn to her lips and he blew out a deep breath before sliding back onto the bed to capture those lips in a deep kiss, laying her back on the bed. He then trailed his hot mouth down her neck and to the hollow at the base of her throat, eliciting a low moan from her while she ran her hands over as much exposed flesh as possible. Sucking the indentation, he deftly unclasped her bra. She couldn't get enough of his hard chest until his hands found her breasts and all else was forgotten. She could only hold on for dear life to the blanket in fistfuls as his mouth and hands on her breasts turned her into a quivering mass. When he teased her nipples into hard peaks, her back arched off the bed and he spanned one hand across her stomach and slid it around her back to support her. With each nip and suck, she made whimpering noises, slowly making him harder than he had ever been.

When Randy moved to undo her slacks, she let out the breath she had been holding and raised her hips for him to slide them off along with her panties. Ana then rose from the bed and tugged at his jeans, which he peeled off. With the two of them kneeling in front of each other, he pulled her to him, flesh on flesh raising goosebumps and his need pressing into her lower belly.

Randy laid her down on the pillows and trailed his hand down her stomach to the apex of her thighs, all the while his mouth on hers. She gasped as his fingers found her ready and he grinned a sexy smile. "Just a moment," he whispered, turning away to the nightstand beside the bed to retrieve a condom and quickly returning. Usually he made a big show of tearing the package open with his teeth and drawing out the process to tease his woman, but he couldn't wait for her. He would burst if he didn't take her now.

Nothing had prepared Ana for this, for him, as he slid inside her, so much so that she tasted blood from where she had bit her lip. She wrapped her legs around him and shifted to allow him to go deeper. He moaned as she opened up to receive all of him. The sheer pleasure of being within her blocked the bite of her nails in his shoulders. Their hips came together over and over in the natural rhythm as old as time. He finally cried out and collapsed on top of her as the waves of pleasure began to ripple from her center to her fingertips and toes. Both lay together, gulping for air while their bodies soaked up the intense pleasure of the aftermath and their tingling nerves began to settle down.

"Do you have to be at class today?" Randy drowsily asked, fingering her copper curls that were strewn across his chest while her fingertips traced the tattoos on one of his arms.

"No," she whispered, pressing herself closer against his body.

"Good, don't move," he replied, wrapping his arm tighter around her. Suddenly he stopped moving and asked, "Do I really leave my underwear lying around everywhere?"

"Yep," she replied with a giggle and then sighed against him.

_Six Months Later_

Ana dropped her keys on the table by the garage door and called for Randy as she stepped into the kitchen for a glass of water. She was running late after getting side-tracked at the cancer center. Having just finished her last semester of coursework, she now held a job as an assistant technician at the clinic, doing the grunt work for the administrators while she worked on her dissertation. It was just another step to where she hoped to be by graduation. Since she and Randy had gotten together, they agreed it best that she seek other employment. While the university had minimum-wage student work available, it was only for six months until she could get on at the center. A month ago, they had moved in together, but he insisted on retaining his current housekeeper, who was a student at the university, so that Ana's time would remain free.

"Randy?" she called again.

"Back here, babe!"

Ana hurried down the hall, yelling as she walked. "I'm sorry I'm late but…" she trailed off, finding him in their darkened bedroom lit only by candles. He was lying across the bed, wearing nothing but the red rose that was clenched between his teeth.

"Hey, _Louise_-i-ana," he stated in a sultry whisper after removing the rose.

"Wow, I, uh, aren't we…" She turned and pointed out in the hallway. "Uh, aren't we pickin' Georgia up at the airport, then goin' to dinner?" The painter had sold out her first art show since her husband's death, including the paintings from the manic periods during her three week stay at Randy's. She was now back in her hometown, Atlanta, and coming out for a visit to thank Randy for his generosity and Ana for "complaining" about her.

"Her plane's a little late…by about two hours," he answered with a grin, twirling the rose between his fingers.

That was good enough by her and she began shrugging out of her jeans and pulling off her t-shirt. Before she could remove her bra, Randy grabbed her and pinned her to bed, straddling her waist. The impish grin vanished as he fixed his steely gaze on her face. She licked her lips and drew her bottom lip between her teeth. He heavily sighed and brushed the rose down one of her cheeks, her neck, and then her stomach. She quivered at its velvety touch, inflaming his body with desire. He slowly bent down to capture her lips with his and pulled the clip from her hair, running his fingers through the tresses.

After tossing aside the rose, Randy left a hot trail across her jaw as he nibbled his way down her neck into the valley between her breasts. He paused for a moment and then nipped at her bra. She raised up and he reached a hand around to free the mounds of flesh. Tingles coursed throughout her as he divested her of the garment and ran a finger around one nipple. She held her breath as his tongue gently laved one then the other. Propped up by one arm, he continued to tease her breast with his mouth while his other hand snaked its way down her stomach and underneath her panties. Ana moaned his name as his hand found the sensitive nub.

He raised up to smile at her and then trailed kisses down her skin dimpled with goosebumps and her breasts ached for his return as his hot mouth trailed down her stomach. She raised her hips as he stripped off the last bit of clothing separating them. His tongue flicked across the center of her desire and she groaned in pleasure, gripping the blanket in her fists. He knew her body all too well and she cried out his name as his ministrations brought her to the point of climax.

"Don't move," she said through gasps. "My turn."

"Can you even move?" he throatily laughed.

"When it comes to your body, I can fly," Ana replied with a grin, raising up on her knees. Her eyes raked over him and she couldn't help but be thankful that her own dark-haired, blue-eyed Adonis had stepped out of the history of mythology just for her. "Stay still," she ordered and her hands began to explore every inch of his body, followed by her lips and tongue. She smiled against his skin each time he would moan. No matter how many times she touched him, she could never get enough. She teased his nipples, nipping them and then blowing on them to make them hard peaks.

"C'mon, Ana," he breathed.

"I've only done a once over. I still have a long way to go," she huskily whispered and he groaned at the thought. Leaving little kisses across his chest and down his stomach, she paused at the juncture of his hip, sucking on the smooth skin. Then to her favorite spot, those oh-so-perfect thighs. She nipped down the inside of them, feeling him twitch beneath her lips. Her fingers massaged his thighs as she tasted every bit of them.

"Ana," he protested and she knew he was about to lose control. She slid up his legs to close her mouth over his manhood and heard him gasp. She sucked and laved, moving up and down the entire length until her own desire returned to its height and he was on the brink of climax. She rose up beside him and uncurled his hands from the death grip they had on the blanket and twined her own in his. Randy pulled her to him with that grip and captured her mouth in a deep kiss that left her panting.

The first time they made love, it was all too quick, but now they had the act down to perfection as he rolled her over. She held her breath in anticipation and exhaled a moan as he carefully slid in. Her hips met his with as much intensity and each brought them closer and closer as they couldn't get enough of each other. Just when she thought she couldn't handle the need for fulfillment, she climaxed, sending waves coursing throughout every inch of her body. Just as she came, he joined her and moaned her name with one last thrust, falling down on top of her and pinning her to the bed with his weight. They lay together satiated, she snuggled on her side against him, her head on his shoulder and her leg wrapped around his. His fingers absentmindedly played in her hair as his breathing stilled.

"Tell me we still have a while before we have to leave. I don't think I can move," Ana stated, running a hand in lazy circles across his stomach. "Better yet, let's just not go."

"Wouldn't that be nice? But I think we owe Georgia our own thanks because we might not be here right now if it wasn't for her," he replied, raising his head just enough to look into her eyes.

"I'd like to think we would have," she replied with a smile and kissed his chest. "It's nothin' but an ol' sweet song."

"Yeah, I think so too, my _Louise_-i-ana," he said, kissing her hair.

_FINI!_

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**Author's Notes:** Title taken from the song "Georgia on My Mind."


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